Inferno Anthology (278 page)

“Yeah, I need to go, too. I’m supposed to be spending the night at my friend’s house.” I moved into the hallway.

“Let me get the door for you,” he said, following after me. Hurrying ahead, he flipped the lock and opened it for me. I reluctantly stepped through, hating that I had to leave. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.

“Thanks, again,” I replied as I stepped toward my car.

“Anytime.” I felt his eyes on me as I walked toward my car. “Don’t be a stranger,” he added, and I flashed him a smile over my shoulder before sliding into the driver’s seat. “Hey, wait!” he called before I shut the door and I leaned my head out so I could hear him better.

“Yeah?”

“I know it’s late, but there’s that all night diner across the parking lot. Want to grab that bite, now?”

I was pretty sure my jaw was gaping. “I…uh, don’t you have to finish cleaning up?”
Lame. That sounded so lame
. Not to mention is sounded like I was trying to ditch him.

“Yeah, but I can do it after.” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it. I just thought we could visit. I didn’t mean to keep you.”

He started to step back. “No! I mean, yes!” I was such a bumbling idiot. “I mean, if you have time, I’d like that. I just need to text my friend and let her know I’m going to be later than I told her.”

A wide smile spread across his face. “Great. You do that while I go turn the lights off and lock the place up.”

I watched him enter the shop before digging into my small purse to retrieve my phone. My hands were shaking as I punched out a text to Bailey.

Going 2 B gone longer than planned.

The phone vibrated.
Is everything okay?

Yeah. I’ll tell U everything when I get there.

Okay. C U in a bit.

Sighing, I couldn’t help the little thrill that went through me. Was this like a date? Did he just want to talk about Tommy? Was he simply hungry?

I didn’t care what the reason was. I was going to get to spend more time with Six. Wild dogs couldn’t drag me away from this moment.

She was nervous. I could tell from the way she fidgeted restlessly with the napkin wrapped around her silverware, bending and straightening a corner of it repeatedly. I waited for the waitress to finish taking our order before I slouched back against the booth, stretching my arm across the back.

“So, did you survive getting your first tattoo all right? Not too painful?” I asked, trying to casually get the conversation rolling between us. I was totally killing my whole self-imposed “too young” restriction at the moment because, for some reason, watching her walk away and not knowing when I might be able to see her again just seemed too much to handle. I was greedy. I wanted more time with her, even if this was the only time we ever had.

Smiling softly, she appeared to relax a little more into her seat, as well. “It was different than I thought it would be. I mean yeah, it hurt, but it was kind of…therapeutic. Is that weird?”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “Not at all. For me, when I’m getting one, it kind of makes me feel more centered. Like my thinking clears and I focus on whatever reason it is that I’m getting the tattoo.”

“I like the idea that’s it a way to display a permanent expression about something. In my case, it makes me feel like I’ll always have a piece of Tommy to carry with me.”

“I think it’s a very nice tribute to him. He would’ve liked it.”

The waitress returned, bringing drinks and setting them down between us, before disappearing again. Since the restaurant only had a few other patrons, I assumed the smells coming from the grill were for us.

I watched as Brooklyn lifted her water, her plump lips wrapping around the straw as she took a sip. It should be illegal for someone to make drinking from a straw look that sexy without even trying.

“So, what will your next tattoo be?” I asked, attempting to distract myself from the direction my thoughts were headed.

“My next tattoo?” She raised her eyebrows.

I grinned. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you about the tattoo curse? You can’t ever get just one.”

“And why is that?”

I shrugged. “Who knows? But, for whatever reason, once you get the first, it seems like it opens the door for more to follow.”

She pondered this for a moment. “Maybe once people get past the initial fear of it, it makes them not so afraid to do it, again.”

“Maybe,” I replied. “So, what would your next one be?”

She laughed, and I enjoyed the sound. It was a beautiful, melodic laugh. “I have no idea. I’ve never thought about it. What would you suggest?”

“Oh, I’m sure you could pull off pretty much anything you wanted, but promise me one thing.”

“Okay. What’s that?”

“Never, and I mean never, get the name of a guy you like tattooed on your body.”

She laughed. “All right. And why not?”

“Because that’s always the relationship that won’t work out. Trust me when I say a guy doesn’t like to be in bed with a girl who has another guy’s name tattooed on her for him to stare at.”

Laughing again, she blushed as she shook her head. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Hmmm.” It was all I offered, as I took a hefty swig of my own water, memories flitting back to a girl named Sandy I’d been with. It didn’t last long. She’d been nice enough, but I couldn’t stand seeing the name “Steve” in the middle of her tramp stamp every time I did her from behind. It bugged me enough to send her packing. “Just trust me. Don’t do it.”

“Got it. No names…unless it says Trey or Six, right?” She laughed, again.

Damn. The girl had no clue that her innocent joke had just struck a flaming torch in my pants. The image of bending her over and seeing…yeah, I was real happy this table was in between us right now. I chugged more water. It didn’t help.

“So, how long have you been doing tattoos?” Brooklyn asked, and I was grateful for the subject change.

“A while.” I studied her face as I spoke, enjoying the chance to be close enough to see the different flecks of brown in her honey colored eyes. She really was stunning; and it was so effortless. She had no idea how beautiful she was; or if she did, she didn’t care. “Would you believe I gave my first one at the age of fourteen?”

“You did?” She looked shocked and I grinned.

“It’s really not as impressive as it sounds. It was on a grapefruit.”

“A grapefruit?”

“Yeah. Inked Edges is owned by my uncle Eddie, or Edgin’ Eddie, as he prefers to be called. I told him I wanted to start doing tattoos, like him, and he made me start practicing on different fruits. When I proved I had a knack for it, he bought me some fake skins to practice on. He also insisted I do my first “real person” tattoo on him. So yeah, I made sure I knew what the heck I was doing. I didn’t want him stuck with a bad tattoo from me for the rest of his life. Once he gave his approval, I started giving them to others, friends of mine. I wasn’t an employee of his shop, so I did them elsewhere—at my house, or even a few parties. I started working at Inked Edges after I turned eighteen.

“Now that we’ve worked so closely together for a few years, we’ve been talking about the possibility of me buying the shop from him, eventually.”

“Wow. That would be awesome. And a nice way for him to keep the business in the family. Will you change the name?”

I shook my head. “No. Everyone knows Inked Edges by reputation. I want to keep it that way.”

Brooklyn, smiled. “And you can add another satisfied customer to your list.”

“Thanks.” Returning her smile, I reached for my drink once more and thought of other ways I’d like to make her a satisfied customer. Leaning forward, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. That didn’t help me one bit, seeing the tip of one of her nipples head lighting through the thin, loose sweater top.

Ice, I needed more ice.

Thankfully, the waitress appeared, carrying our food right at that moment. “Can I get some more water, with some extra ice?” I asked as she set our plates in front of us.

“Sure, no problem. Anything else I can get either of you?” she asked, glancing between us.

“Can I get a side of ranch dressing?” Brooklyn asked.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back with both of those.”

“I’m never going to be able to eat all of this,” Brooklyn said, staring at the buffalo chicken sandwich she’d ordered, plus onion rings. “This is enough food for three people.”

Laughing, I agreed with her. “Sweetheart, that sandwich is almost bigger than you are. Box up what you don’t eat and save it for later. Or take some home to your friend.”

“That’s a good idea. Bailey would probably like it. She’s going to flip when I tell her where I’ve been.”

“Does she like eating here?” I asked.

“Uh, no.” She glanced around. “I don’t know that I’ve ever actually eaten here. I meant staying to eat with you, actually.” The blush was back.

“So is this “flipping” she’s gonna do a good thing or a bad thing?” I took a bite of my green chili burger. Every guy knew that to have a chance at the girl required best friend approval. My own thoughts caught my attention. Is that what I was really wanting? A chance with this girl? Sure, she’d been in my head a lot—more than a lot—over the last year, but that didn’t change the fact that our age difference was less than desirable. She was still young.

“Oh, definitely a good thing. Anything that has to do with a guy is a good thing.”

“Sounds like she’s looking out for you. That’s nice.”

Brooklyn laughed, again. “I don’t know if it’s looking out for me so much as wanting to pull me into her life of debauchery.”

I swallowed, my eyebrows shooting up. “Debauchery? After what Tommy told me about your dad, I can’t imagine him allowing you to hang out with anyone who’s messed up in a life of debauchery.”

Her expression fell a bit at the mention of her dad, her eyes growing guarded. “He would if he had no clue of the said debauchery. My dad is all about appearances and Bailey’s family is very wealthy. Her dad is always happy to help fund my dad’s ambitions, if you know what I mean. As long as her daddy is paying him, and she isn’t landing on the front of tabloids somewhere, my dad considers her a saint. If he was mean to her or said we couldn’t be friends, he could lose his financial backer.”

“Interesting. So what exactly are the sins of this wild child?”

Smiling, Brooklyn shook her head. “She’s not that bad. At least I don’t think she is. She just likes boys. Lots of them. And she loves doing…stuff…with all those boys, too.”

Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I leaned back. This conversation was much more interesting than dinner. “She likes sex,” I stated plainly, just to watch her blush, and she did.

“Yes. A lot.” The blush deepened. “And she likes sharing those experiences in detail. She’s always trying to set me up with the best friend of whomever she’s with, too. Just what I always wanted…a double date orgy.”

My imagination went crazy and I had to force my laugh this time. The idea of some stupid kid running his hands all over Brooklyn didn’t set well with me, at all. I didn’t know why, either. It wasn’t like I had any claim to her, but the idea of someone else taking advantage of her made me angry. My fists clenched under the table.

This totally sucked. I’d been interested in this girl for a while and couldn’t even act on it. Yet, while I sat and admired from afar, others were stepping into the place I wanted to be.

And there was the truth. I wanted her for myself. Yet, I was judging others for doing to her the same things I wanted to do. Hell, I’d been a participant in double date orgies myself, worse even. There had definitely been some wild parties in the past. People got drunk and stuff happened.

“Don’t get me wrong, though. I love her to pieces. She’s an amazing friend, even though I’m sure she’ll be able to turn something about me spending time eating with you into something overtly sexual…which is totally not true.”

My raging hard on begged to differ. Maybe nothing sexual was going on for her, but there was a whole lot of sexual going on under this side of the table.

“She sounds fun,” I replied tightly, still stuck on the thought of other guys getting to touch her and not me.

“She is. I’ll have to introduce the two of you to each other sometime.” She hesitated. “You know, if we ever run into each other again, or if she wants a tattoo or something.” Her phone buzzed and she glanced down. “Speak of the devil.” Quickly, she typed something back. “I had no idea I’d been gone so long.”

Brooklyn waved her hand at the waitress, getting her attention. “Can I get a to-go box and my check, please?”

“Bring me the check,” I said to the waitress before looking at Brooklyn. “Tonight’s on me.”

She shook her head. “No, let me pay. You’ve already done so much with the tattoo and all.”

“I want to do this for you.” Reaching across the table, I covered her hand with mine. Sparks shot instantly up my arm and her eyes dropped to where we were touching. “Please,” I added. “In honor of Tommy.”

Looking up, she nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

The waitress arrived and dished the remainder of our food into the boxes, before handing me the check. “Thanks. Have a great night you two.”

Digging out my wallet, I threw several bills down on the table, making sure there was plenty to cover the tip, as well.

“Sorry I have to rush off,” Brooklyn said as she stood. “Bailey’s parents asked where I was. She told them I ran to the store real quick. I need to get back.”

“No need to explain,” I replied, following her to the entrance and stepping ahead to open the door for her as we moved out into the night air. “Thanks for coming to eat with me,” I added as we moved toward her car.

“Even if I didn’t get to stay and finish?”

“Yep. It was fun while it lasted. Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

Glancing over at me, she smiled. “I’d like that.” She reached in her small handbag and brought out her keys, fumbling with them before hitting the clicker and unlocking the car.

I opened the car door for her, cursing myself for doing so when she slid right in. I was hoping to at least steal a hug from her before she left.